


Et Lux Perpetua Luceat Eis (and let light perpetual shine upon them)

by AvaFarfallina



Series: Requiem [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Loki, BAMF Natasha Romanov, F/F, F/M, Fem!Loki/Natasha - Freeform, Female Loki, Female-Centric, Girl-Power, OC, Torture, age-difference, dub-con, fem!Loki, schemes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4860359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaFarfallina/pseuds/AvaFarfallina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki plots, and tricks, and schemes. Loki lies, and Loki dreams.</p><p>In which Loki is a teenage girl, and everything is different. (Well... not everything...)</p><p>-Covers events from Thor. Super AU. Not Canonical.-</p><p>Warnings: Age difference romance, dub-con, torture, lesbianism, homosexuals, gender-fluidity, creepy old men, convoluted plot, meddling fate, Thanos, Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Et Lux Perpetua Luceat Eis (and let light perpetual shine upon them)

The day of her brother’s coronation dawns softly. The sun eases up over the horizon in a gentle brightening, colors warming from grey to pink to orange. Yellow light seeps into the shadows. The air is crisp and wet and blue, and Loki’s breath forms the shades of clouds. She allows the peace of the morning to wash over her.  
She exhales.  
Her thoughts become as insubstantial as her breath. They float across her mind and disperse, dream-like. She is distant, endless, meaningless. When an idea attempts to take root, the soft breeze of the morning carries it away.  
She exhales.  
The world breathes with her. There is no consciousness, only life. She floats within herself like a leaf balancing on top of the water. The water is clear. She is empty, calm, still. The world is quiet, alive, sleeping.  
She exhales, and opens her eyes.  
The sun glows through the tree line. The cold of the night clings to the darkness of the shadows, and the brightness of the day illuminates the garden.  
The sound of heavy footsteps breaks the tranquility of the sunrise. Loki sighs, and turns to face the interloper.  
“Thor. What do you want.”  
He beams at her. “I am to be king today! Loki, I am to be king! Is not that cause enough for me to seek your presence?”  
“No. Not this early.” She frowns at him. “You should be preparing. Why are you not with your servants, Thor?”  
His smile dims for a moment, before he laughs. Birds fly away at the sudden noise, and people turn to stare. She hides the urge to cringe. He is so, so loud. “What preparation do I need, that I have not already had? I know how to lead troops in battle! I know how to speak to the people of Asgard! I am well regarded by all. There is no need for further preparation! Today is a day for revelry and excitement! I am to be king!”  
“Yes, Thor.” She says dryly, amused. “You have only said so a hundred times in the last week.”  
“But Loki, it is for good reason! I am finally going to take my rightful place. Finally, I will be able to lead Asgard to greatness!”  
She looks at him for a long moment. He is practically shaking with excitement.  
“Thor…” She says, quietly. He looks at her, confident, ecstatic, and proud. She swallows her words of warning. He is not ready to listen. She changes her expression to one of teasing disdain, allows a smirk to slide onto her face. “You are unwashed, unshaven, your clothes are rumpled, your armor is unpolished, your boots are worn, and your hair is not brushed. You… are far from prepared. How can you lead Asgard to greatness when you look like a complete slob?” She laughs at him as he gapes in dismay.  
“You… little sister, you are the vainest! …You! All you care for is appearance!” He sputters, but he cannot hide his mirth. She grins a little wider, and dances away from the hand that reaches out to muss her hair.  
“No decent king looks like he spent the night in the stables! Go clean up or I will lock you in the baths for a week!”  
“You can try! I will be king as I am! I will roll in the mud before my coronation to spite you, little sister!”  
“I will not allow any brother of mine to go out in public looking like a pig! And smelling like one, as well! When was the last time you cleaned? You are disgusting!”  
“You are disgusting!” He bellows.  
“Thor! Do not call your sister disgusting!” At the stern words of their mother, both royal siblings spin around, ashamed. They feel less so when they see the smile hidden in Frigga’s eyes. “Really, you two, arguing on the day of Thor’s coronation? This does not bode well for the unity of Odin’s house. I expect better of you, Loki. Did you not say to me that you would support your brother in every way?” Her mother’s smile sparkles.  
“Mother…” Loki mutters. She feels herself turning red. Thor is eyeing her with undisguised glee.  
“However… Thor, you really do need to ready yourself for the ceremony. Your sister is right.”  
“As usual.” Loki whispers. Thor glares and elbows her lightly.  
Their mother admonishes them lightly again, and then bids them Good Morning before walking off to tend the garden.  
Thor stares into her eyes, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “She was not lying when she said that you told her you would support me.”  
Loki rolls her eyes, trying desperately to suppress her extreme embarrassment. “Of course. What else am I for? Now go take a bath, please. I was not lying about your smell, either.” He laughs. “Of course you were not. You never lie, do you?”  
“No. Never. The name Loki Silvertongue refers to the actual color of my tongue, and is not metaphorical in anyway.” She sticks her tongue out at him in emphasis. “Now leave! I wish to gather back the fragments of a peaceful morning.”  
He grins at her and jogs off. In the distance, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three stand from where they guarded him from afar and join him as he enters the palace.  
Loki watches him leave, the fondness that softens her eyes slowly fading. New footsteps approach, light and long.  
“He is not ready.” Her mentor murmurs quietly from beside her.  
“No…” She whispers. “He is not. He thinks that war and popularity make a king. He is enamored with his power and blind to his potential for harm. But…” She trails off.  
“But what?” Baldr asked. She glanced over and saw that his expression was patient—almost to the point of condescension.  
“He is my brother. I truly was not lying when I swore I would support him. I… have faith in him. He does care. He will grow, he will learn. I have faith that he will become a good king, in time.”  
He snorts, startling her. “But at what cost? To what depths will he drag Asgard before he learns patience and humility?” Her teacher’s voice is quiet, but passion burns in his words and glows in his eyes. His jaw is set in a tight scowl. She feels uneasy, and worried. He has always disagreed with her brother’s appointment as the heir, but this is the most vehement he has been in his disapproval.  
She turns to face him fully, her concern for him warring with her unease at his new attitude. “Be careful how you speak, Baldr Hoderson. You may be my father’s most trusted advisor, but if you let another word against the heir to Asgard slip through your mouth I will report you for treason.” He takes a step back and eyes her warily, scanning her face. Whatever he sees disappoints him, and he sighs.  
“Princess, you are the most talented student I have ever had. I have watched you grow from a child brimming with curiosity and potential to a woman who has mastered her art." His eyes soften, and she feels a little of her worry slip away, replaced by a slightly uncomfortable glow of pride. "I had hoped… never mind. I know that I have taught you well. You know your brother better than I ever will. Do not fear that I will do anything to harm Asgard. My interests are that of Asgard. My loyalty is to the true king. With you by his side, there is no king that could fail.” At this proclamation, she feels the tension bleed from her shoulders. Baldr's word is known through all of Asgard to be unbreakable. He has been her mentor, teacher, and protector for her entire life, and his advice to the king is highly valued. 

But the faint stirrings of unease have not left her yet, so she buries her wariness deep within her heart, and smiles.  
OO----------------------OO

The hall is bright and golden and loud. Loki feels drained merely being near the vast amount of Aesir that have come to gawk at her brother’s coronation. She holds herself completely still and fixes a pleasant expression on her face as a headache mounts a war campaign in her mind.  
People are smiling and laughing. Everyone is wearing something shining, and everyone is talking loud. Finally, after what seems to be an inordinate amount of speeches and posturing, the ceremony begins. Her older brother practically prances down the aisle. He is an adult, a recognized adult member of society, and he is preening. She wants to look away in disgust. Even as the youngest by far of Odin's two children, she is the most mature by a landslide. His obvious childish joy is not helping her horrible mood at all. She hates people. She hates crowds. She hates parties and dinners and ceremonies. She would rather be anywhere but here, and it is obvious that he would completely disregard her suffering and have the ceremony go on for all eternity. He is so selfish. As she fumes quietly, Thor reaches the foot of Odin-Allfather’s throne. He kneels, and the cheering somehow intensifies. She feels like she might crack apart. Norns above, she hates noise. The vows begin to be exchanged, when suddenly, their father stills. The room dims. The crowd hushes. Loki stiffens and lets the smile drop.  
Odin’s voice is terrible and quiet. “Frost giants…”  
He turns and strides away towards the treasury. Pandemonium breaks loose, and Loki and Thor rush after him. As they leave, Loki hears her mother’s soft voice pacifying the panicking crowd.  
Her mind is a whirlwhind. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her mentor speaking quietly to another advisor. He catches her eye and quirks a brow. She feels herself flush and looks away.  
She shakes her fears and worries from her mind and hurries after her father.  
This is not how she expected the day to go. By her brother's fuming expression, he did not expect this either.

And she cannot escape the feeling that her life has descended into Hel.


End file.
